Incredible Dreams (14 page)

With a gentle shove, Jeannie pushed Izzy toward George. His devilishly handsome grin somehow brightened his golden brown eyes.
Well, okay...yeah, he’s good-looking
.

Izzy smiled. “Hi.”

“Would you like to sit?” He gestured toward the seat beside him.

“Sure.” An overwhelming sensation of being intoxicated inundated Izzy. It made no sense, she hadn’t been drinking. That knowledge didn’t lessen the feeling.

Reaching for the chair, her head dizzied and her vision blurred. She lunged into the seat, but was able to disguise her failing by declaring, “geez, it’s good to finally sit down.” Thankfully, no one could see the uncertainty in her eyes—thanks to Jack’s sunglasses.

“Jeannie tells me you’re a singer.” George returned to his seat, and Izzy only nodded in the direction of his voice. “I must confess, I did see you sing a while back...at the Cool Cat.”

“You did?” She knew he’d been there, but chose to keep it to herself.

“I was given the impression you weren’t available for...conversation.” His illusive and suggestive intent escaped in his voice.

“You shouldn’t believe everything you hear.” Feeling better now that her head had begun to clear, she rested her hands in her lap and laced her fingers together. “Although, I do want you to know straight away...I am married. My husband is overseas.”

“Well, you know what I always say—” A suggestive implication gleamed in his eyes and curled a less than honorable grin into the corners of his mouth. “—What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.”

Humph. What you don’t know won’t hurt you, either
. He was cute, and she was tempted. But her heart wasn’t in it. She’d momentarily been smitten by George, even though she didn’t understand it. Luckily, she’d come to her senses before she did something she’d end up regretting.

That didn’t change the fact that Jack had moved on, and so quickly and easily, too. Jeannie had a point. If he could do it, so could Izzy. Letting Jack think she didn’t care was the first step to liberating her heart.

“Hey, you guys want to ride the Ferris Wheel?” Jeannie glanced around the table, seeking approval.

Izzy loved the Ferris Wheel. She didn’t know how she knew it. There wasn’t a single memory inside her head of ever riding one. Still, the anticipation cheered her mood. Invaded by the desperate desire to go for a ride, she glimpsed at George. “What do you think?”

“Sure.” He nodded his head slightly, accepting her invitation.

George rose and Izzy followed, with Paul and Jeannie not far behind. The couples strolled toward the carnival rides and claimed a place in the short line for the Ferris Wheel. George and Paul took turns telling jokes while Izzy and Jeannie did their part by laughing to feed their male egos.

Izzy’s escort glanced up the line in front of them. He seemed to ponder it for a moment before turning back to her. “I’ve got to hit the latrine. I don’t think you’ll make the front of the line before I get back.”

“Okay. Sure. Go ahead.” Indifference shrugged Izzy’s shoulders and tilted her head. She didn’t care. The man had to use the bathroom.

Moments passed and the line of anxious riders diminished, nagging at Izzy’s nerves. As the couple ahead of her was escorted to the Ferris Wheel, she guided Jeannie and Paul to the front of the line. When they were led to the next available cart, Izzy’s nerves rocketed to new and scary heights.

There was nothing worse than riding the Ferris Wheel alone. Talk about pitiful. Knowing her turn was coming up quickly, she glanced around looking for George.

“What’s the matter...lose your partner?” Jack’s voice, both teasing and tempting, breezed against her ear.

Izzy flung her head around in Jack’s direction.

Anger swirled furiously behind her blue eyes, as deep as any ocean, and stalled into a savaged glare.

Boy. If looks could kill
. Jack didn’t know what had her so irked. But he hoped he’d caught the brunt of her rage. To think it could get worse than this was scary.

Jack was mad, too—at George. He’d told him to stay away from Isabelle, but that order was disregarded the moment George found out she was married. Still, Jack didn’t have to like it.

“Your date seems to have disappeared.” Jack liked that. He wanted George gone.

“No,” she said with deceptive calm, avoiding eye contact. “He’ll be back.”

“Next.” The attendant’s grating command urged the line forward.

Jack slid one hand down her arm, laced her fingers around his and looked at the Ferris Wheel. “Well, it’s either me...or you end up a dreaded single on a couples ride, see.”

“Whatever. You do what you want.” Her tone, courteous yet condescending belted him, chilling his confidence as she passed through the gate.

Jack followed Isabelle and climbed inside her cart. He laid his arm behind her and purposefully grazed his fingers along her back. The attendant slammed the bar in place across their laps, locking the compartment.

“So, Isabelle, I’m a little curious...” He snuggled her closer as the Ferris Wheel began to move upward.

She cut her eyes, examining him cautiously. “Choose your words wisely, Jack,” she said, as if she knew the thoughts running through his mind.

“I just don’t want to see you do something you’ll end up regretting.”

“It’s a little late for that.” Hurt flashed in her eyes. The cart crested at the highest point and stopped.

“So what are you saying? You regret us?” he asked through gritted teeth. She wasn’t supposed to say that. She was supposed to prefer leaving her husband to losing him.

“No...” She paused, the hurt that had darkened her eyes moments before gave way to sadness. The Ferris Wheel began to move faster and she grabbed the bar. “I can’t do this anymore, Jack.” A pleading trait shook her voice. “I know, ideally we should be able to put our feelings aside and just be friends.”

There was a ‘
but’
in there somewhere struggling to get out. As encouraging as that seemed, it wasn’t going to do him any good. “Sometimes, that’s easier said than done, see.”

The ride whirled round and round and inched her closer to him.
Okay
. He’d take what he could get. She chewed on her upper lip and stole a glance at him. He smiled and had meant it in a comforting way, but he couldn’t be sure that’s the way it transpired.

Awkwardly, she cleared her throat. “I just didn’t realize that seeing you with another woman was going to be so hard.”

What
? Where had that come from? “Another woman?” he said out loud, trying to figure out when and where that might have happened.

“How quickly you forget.” Isabelle’s despair turned to doubt, and her suspicion stung his ego.

Then it hit. “You mean Margaret?” He couldn’t stop the urge to laugh, so he let his bitterness seep out too. “Is that why you’re sporting George Hadley around like a new coat?”

“Excuse me?” She gave him a hostile glare. “I’m not the one making a spectacle of myself.”

“Well, that’s a matter of opinion, see.” He didn’t like the idea of a pairing between them and he wasn’t going to pretend otherwise.

Her lips thinned with anger. “I’m not the one that’s running around with someone who looks like they’re barely out of diapers.”

The ride slowed and came to a halt, their cart just inches from the ground. The attendant strode toward them and released the locked bar. Jack climbed out, and like a gentleman offered Isabelle his hand.

“You got a minute?” he asked, as she took his hand and climbed out. “I want you to meet my
date
.”

The chill in her stare rippled through him. “I think it’s probably best if you and I agree right now...from this moment forward, we will treat each other as casual and indifferent acquaintances.” She paused, taking a couple of steps back. “And Jack, I have no desire to meet your date.”

Her hostile words and aloof behavior sliced through him. Yet, he hadn’t tried to stop her as she walked away. Why? Every ounce of romanticism in him wanted to chase after her, but his dignity pulled rank on his desire.

His eyes hung on her rigid frame as she limped away. Curiosity crossed his mind over what happened to her. Jack considered chasing after Isabelle and sweeping her off her feet. Obviously, the girl was hurt. Sadly though, he could not be her hero. He knew it and she knew it.

She may be off limits but still, she hadn’t liked seeing him with another woman.

Imagine...she was jealous of Margaret. It appeared that a nice big, fat slice of crow was in order for Isabelle. With a chuckle, Jack slid his hands inside his trouser pockets and backed away a step or two before turning and striding off.

CHAPTER 17

IZZY HATED the doctor appointments. After a multitude of tests, the hospital staff had found nothing wrong with her, physically anyway, and she’d been turned over—although ‘dumped on’ was a more accurate depiction of how she’d ended up under the care of a psychiatrist. But weekly engagements with a shrink didn’t set well. It made Izzy feel like she was crazy.

Maybe she was. She couldn’t remember a thing past the last month. And, as if that wasn’t bad enough, she was seeing people who weren’t there. It mostly happened when she came to the hospital. She finally concluded that she might be seeing dead people, and she was starting to feel like that kid in the Sixth Sense. She didn’t have fluid memories of the movie. Only that one snippet of information, the premise—a kid who saw dead people.

She’d also wager that no one else had ever heard of the film.

Between the ghostly images and the inclinations about movies that didn’t exist, Izzy had begun to legitimately question her sanity. Fearing the doctors would too, she decided to keep quiet about the things that seemed out of the ordinary.

Doc Beal, the shrink assigned to her case, thought she’d suffered some traumatic episode, which her mind had chosen to block out. During her weekly sessions, she spent an hour trying to convince him, if that were true, she had no way of knowing it. The doctor constantly suggested hypnosis, but for some reason Izzy wasn’t comfortable with that option. The session always ended the same—with her not knowing anything more than she did when they started.

After each visit, on her way out, she’d almost always run into someone she’d recently met. Usually someone who new Jack. Today it was Mickey Fitch. She’d seen him with Jack a couple of times and took them for good friends.

“Isabelle.” He smiled and tipped his cap.

“Mickey, hello.” She returned his friendly greeting and paused, acknowledging her readiness to initiate a conversation.

“What a pleasant surprise,” he said. “How do you like Margaret? She’s a sweet girl, isn’t she?”

“Excuse me?” Confused and insulted, she saw no reason to suppress the rush of energized emotions.

“Jack’s sister?” Mickey’s confidence diminished, he wrinkled his brow and narrowed his eyes.

“Huh?” She didn’t recall Jack having a sister and couldn’t remember meeting one.

“The girl at the picnic.” Mickey seemed determined to talk about the girl. Maybe it was different for guys, but that didn’t mean Izzy had to oblige.

But being rude wasn’t in her, not when the prospective recipient wasn’t deserving. “Oh, yes. Yes, of course,” she said with cordial consideration. Then the realization slammed against her head.

That was Jack’s sister
? Why didn’t he tell her? He knew how rattled she’d been over him showing up with another woman. But instead of easing her fears, he’d all but laughed at her, and enjoyed watching her squirm.

A bit of relief calmed Izzy and soothed her temper, but it was nothing compared to the agony she felt toward Jack for letting her rant and rave and act like a fool.

J
eannie hated the outdoors, but the park was the safest and most secure way to ensure that no one interfered with her plans. Claiming a run-into here was much easier to explain away than coming up with excuses about why she was at a restaurant, or some other place indoors, with George Hadley. A couple of weeks ago, it would have been okay. But not now. Not after George and Izzy had had that semi-date.

“I don’t know, Jeannie...” George’s words trailed off in doubt. “...She didn’t seem too all-fired interested in me at the picnic the other day.”

“Oh, my dear, sweet George.” Jeannie’s words dripped with sweet persuasion. “The thing that you have to understand about my sister is...she likes to play games. She thinks men enjoy the catch a bit more when they have to put forth a little effort in the chase.”

“Well—” George chuckled. “—She may be on to something there.”

“It turns her on when she’s pursued relentlessly.” She let out a deep, throaty, suggestive moan. “My little sister becomes a wildcat. Or so I’m told.” She dragged her fingernails through his hair in slow, sensuous strokes down to the nape of his neck.

George remained quiet. He didn’t move. He just stared forward. She sensed the wheels turning inside his head. He was on the verge of relenting, but he still had reservations. “Are you sure?” He faced her, and judging by the smile that had curled at the corners of his mouth, Jeannie knew he’d found what he thought was a viable excuse. “What about her husband?”

Jeannie raked her nails over his chest and snuck inside the opening between the buttons on his shirt. “Since when have you let a little thing like that get in your way?” she asked, moving her hand south.

The smile in his eyes blazed with a sensuous flame and Jeannie knew he was contemplating having sex with just about anybody right now.

Izzy, she’s the one
. She directed her silent command, scarcely discernible, into George’s mind where it could consume his thoughts.

“Well, if anybody knows your sister’s idiosyncrasies, it’d be you.” His carefree demeanor told Jeannie that she’d gotten to him, just that easily. Good, she hadn’t lost her touch.

She gave him a wink and drove her fingers back up to the side of his head. “I think you should pay Izzy a visit tonight at the Cool Cat.”

“I think that’s a good idea,” he decided, shivering under her touch.

“Bring flowers or candy.” She admired him as he rose off the park bench, favoring his long, lean physique. “She loves that sort of stuff.” Jeannie clasped her hands together.

“Thanks for the tip,” he threw the words over his shoulder, but didn’t look her way as he strode off.

Jeannie beamed at how easy her job of persuasion had been. George Hadley could possibly turn out to be the easiest mark she’d ever faced.

Satan knows, Izzy wasn’t.

But since when did Jeannie let a little thing like tenacity stop her? She’d come up against some pretty hard tasks in her day. There was no way some little ghost-whisperer and her hero—whose days were numbered—were going to get the best of her. They didn’t stand a prayer of a chance. Not in this lifetime, or any other.

Strolling through the park helped Izzy subdue the strange inclinations that the visits to the shrink seemed to bring about. Something about the fresh air cleared the cobwebs in her head and discouraged the strange thoughts mulling around inside her mind.

Izzy saw her sister sitting on the park bench, long before Jeannie saw her. Curiosity over what Jeannie was doing in the park, since she didn’t particularly like the outdoors, nudged Izzy in her direction.

Izzy plopped onto the bench beside her. “What brings you out here in the middle of the day?”

“Izzy.” Jeannie gasped, giving away her surprised demeanor.

Humph
. Izzy looked her over. “You’re up to something.”

“Well, actually I had a lunch date, but he stood me up.” Her cavalier behavior suggested that she didn’t care.

“Wow, he must be something for you to agree to lunch outdoors.” Izzy sighed with a shrug, still amazed that Jeannie had so willingly endured the Army picnic. She did seem to enjoy the carnival later that evening, though. And just like anyone else, Jeannie too had no trouble picking and choosing her poison.

“Well, aren’t they all,” Jeannie said, her tone dripping in disappointment. “Some are more interesting than others.” Her devilish laughter echoed through the air.

Izzy’s school-girl giggle corroborated her agreement.

“George ain’t half bad.” Jeannie dared to glimpse at Izzy.

“He’s kind of cute and all.” Izzy let the words fall off her tongue, a hint of reservation lingering in the back of her mind. “But I’m just not into him.” She wanted to say she only had eyes for Jack, but that was a bad idea. Instead, she came up with, “Besides, it’s about time that I start acting like a married woman.” Which she knew would turn out to be the hardest thing she’d ever done because she hadn’t a single memory of her so-called husband. To make matters worse, her heart had been accosted by another and there wasn’t a damned thing she could do about it. By now, she’d accepted the idea that she’d spend the rest of her life loving a man who was not her husband.

“Act like a married woman...are you kidding me?” Jeannie blurted out. Izzy focused on her sister. She maneuvered around and scrutinized Izzy from the front. “Since when has that ever been a factor for you?”

Jeannie’s shrilling voice pierced Izzy’s ego more than the pitch bothered her hearing. The implication was more than enough to drag her already bruised ego down another notch or two. “What exactly are you saying, sister dear?” She let her frustration shine through in her disappointment.

“Look, since you have this memory-loss thing going on, I’m going to be open and candid with you.” She paused, as if contemplating the matter. “Izzy, I don’t mean to sound crass, but...you and Harry...you have what one might refer to as an
open
marriage.”

“A what?” Izzy snapped.

“Well, it’s mostly open on your part. I don’t recall Harry ever dallying elsewhere.” She paused, casting a tolerant eye on Izzy. Thankfully, her gaze wasn’t judgmental. Izzy didn’t need anyone judging her right now. She was doing enough of that herself. Jeannie must have seen the self-recrimination going on inside Izzy’s head, prompting her to say, “Well don’t beat yourself up about it. It’s not like Harry ever gave you an ultimatum or anything. He accepted your wandering eye when he married you. So go ahead and have your fun.”

Izzy’s mouth dropped open.
Well, that was rude
. “I’ve got to go.” She clutched her purse in her hand and stood. Hearing such things about herself nearly brought tears to her eyes.

I’m not that kind of girl
. Izzy didn’t know how she knew that, but somehow, somewhere, deep down inside, she knew she was a one-man woman. Trouble was, the man she was devoted to wasn’t her husband. And, as if her situation wasn’t desolate enough, Izzy couldn’t dig up a single recollection of Harry in her broken memory.

“Oh, well,” she whispered, marching away. “A girl’s entitled to change her mind, isn’t she?”

Izzy trudged through a batch of trees. Her ankle ached from twisting it at the picnic the other day. Rather than keeping an eye out in front of her, Izzy watched the ground to avoid stepping in another hole. She slammed hard into a wall of arms and knew in an instant that she’d run into Jack—of all people.

“Where’s the fire, Isabelle?” he asked, his hands lingering near her shoulders.

She refused eye contact with him while she moved out of his reach, one arm at a time. “I’m in a hurry, that’s all.”

“Ah-ha!” A hint of vindication escaped with his quick overture.

She maneuvered around him and continued on her way. She didn’t have to look around to know he was on her trail.

“Where you headed in such a hurry?” His question was followed by teasing laughter.

“I’m late. That’s all.” Her response, short and to the point, faded into nothing and she quickened her pace.

“Interesting.”

“Look, Jack...I jumped to conclusions at the picnic.” She paused, hating to say the words. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.” Her dissolution escaped in her tone, but she didn’t care. It wasn’t much of an apology, but it was the best she had to offer.

Jack latched onto her arm just above the elbow and dragged her to a nearby bench. “Look, I’ve spent every waking hour since
we
found out about your husband, going over every possible scenario and outcome.” He paused, growling. “It’s clear that you want to distance yourself from me. I get that. But, for the sake of what we could’ve had...can’t we at least try to act cordially to one another when we do happen to cross paths?”

He seemed to be pleading with his words and tone now, and Izzy felt remorse over the thought of hurting him. As hard as that may be for her, he was right. Just because she couldn’t deal with the situation as it was, that was no reason to take it out on him. After all, it wasn’t his fault that she was married to another man.

“I’m sorry. I really am.” She dared to glimpse at him. “You’re right. I’m acting like a school girl, and you deserve better.” Izzy rose from the bench and walked away.

Knowing that Jack was following her, she quickened her pace. She was really starting to feel like Ilsa from Casablanca, knowing she was beholden to her husband, but still, trying her damnedest not to love another man. Why couldn’t Izzy be more like Johnny and Sarah from The Dead Zone? They’d managed to put their feelings aside out of respect for Walt.

She slowed her pace and Jack did the same. After a couple of steps, Izzy’s nerves eased a bit. “If Johnny and Sarah can do it, so can we.” Determination swelled inside her. Izzy threw her shoulders back and walked a little taller.

“Pardon me?” With a curious squint Jack studied her face, obviously surprise by her statement.

“You know. The Dead Zone.” She quickened her step a beat or two. “Johnny wakes up from a four-year coma and his fiancé—I think she was his fiancé—is married to another man.”

Jack let out an exasperated sigh. “What?”

“Well, it’s not exactly like us, but...we can follow their lead and put our feelings aside, out of respect for the sanctity of marriage.” While her words might sound convincing, Izzy knew they were a load of crap.

Jack shook his head and a sudden chuckle escaped through tight lips. Izzy recognized the sarcasm in his demeanor.

“You wouldn’t be laughing at me, now would you, Jack?” She tried to hide her pain with a stoic face but couldn’t tell if she’d pulled it off. Chances of success were fifty-fifty. Okay, maybe thirty-forty.

“No, Isabelle, that’s the last thing I’m doing.” The truth of his words chilled the air. “I’ve accepted the fact that we can’t be anything but friends, see. But I also know that we can’t be friends either.”

Izzy agreed, but that didn’t mean she had to like it. “True.” Reality tugged at her heartstrings. “I’m sorry, but it’s hard seeing you with another woman.” Embarrassment shaded crimson on her cheeks. “I know I’ve got to learn to deal with it. I just haven’t figured out how yet.”